


Stimmen aus dem Kissen

by tea_limeman



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Angst, Car Accidents, Comfort/Angst, M/M, Mention of Death, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 06:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17482808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_limeman/pseuds/tea_limeman
Summary: Sleep is the son of the Night, and brother with Dream and Death.





	Stimmen aus dem Kissen

**Author's Note:**

> English translation of title: Voices out of the pillow
> 
> A big thank you goes out to my dear [Lily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christophspowerstance) for proofreading and helping me with the translation ♡

It’s the same dream again. Again, and again.

His bashful smile, the warm glow of light posts lining the empty streets.

It all feels perfectly right and content.

But it’s not the first time this scene crosses my sleeping mind. I feel panic creeping up and spreading through my whole body.

I desperately want to call for him, run towards him. Joining him in the most unspeakable option seems like the  optimal solution.

But he won’t stop. Back facing the street, his endearing smile only belongs to me. His smile, his vibrant eyes, smiling, smiling. A gleaming and a nasty sound of cracking bones.

 

I jolt up from Hypnos’ realm, my heart trying to escape its cage, cold sweat clinging to every inch of my skin.

I can’t move when the whimpering stops dead in my throat. The dread only vanishes in a viscous manner, though it feels like ages.

When I’m finally able to move again, my first action is to reach for the other side of the bed. Fingers clutching into the sheets.

It’s always the same motion I go for when this dream returned. Though it has a next shock rushing through my veins.

The sheets by my side are empty and cold.

It takes seconds for my rationality to realize he’s not gone for too long. The blanket is ruffled. A living body, a _breathing_ body must have caused the disarray.

My legs are shaking when I move to stand. The darkness imprisoning my sight slowly makes way for the busy lights of the near city, shining through the curtains.

The hallway is drowned in black.

My hands search and find their path, leading me towards the kitchen. Standing in the doorframe, relief swallows my whole being.

His broad back hunched, he is standing there, gazing through the open window.  It’s obvious that the nocturnal demons make him sick, too.

The lump in my throat disappears. I stumble in his direction to wrap my arms around his waist.

His skin is cold, colder than the clear air streaming through the window. Without saying a single word I hide my face in his back, eyes burning with tears of relief.

But the healing heat fails to appear and I try to shift closer, deepening my embrace.

He withstands my touch, remaining motionless.

The sounds of the city suddenly appear muffled, turning into an unreal white noise. My attempts to calm down still won’t come to fruition.

He still shows no hint of movement nor reaction for my current state.

The cogwheels behind my forehead begin to work in a slow pace, leading to realization seeping into my limbs only heavily. It leaves me shivering in anticipation of nothing good, anxiety rendering me motionless.

Not only the absence of heat or reaction. It’s his missing presence.

I carefully back away, releasing the embrace. 

My heart skips, and echoes in my ears, pumping sheer panic through my body. It’s not only his lack of presence, heat and affection.  There is no soothing sound of breathing.

Before I can step back far enough, it feels like the room is spinning. I now am watching the room from the outside, facing him.

A gleaming. Headlights illuminating his face.

The smile is a mask, his eyes without a hint of blaze – cloudy. And dead.

I’m horrified. My stomach churns. My scream is muted.

 

The consciousness returns, now utterly real. This much I know. My screaming echoes in my ears, the cold lingers in my bones. I’m too afraid to move, or to open my eyes.

A hint of a body within reach, and a voice, full of concern, breaks through the haze of my agitation, like the sun on a foggy, autumnal morning.

Eventually, I dare to cast up my eyes.

Through the dusk, I can guess his well-known features. There is tiredness and worry, sympathy and love – a face full of life. Wary eyes trying to figure out my state of mind.

“This dream again?”

I reach out with shaking fingers, to possibly reveal another delusion. But his skin is warm under my fingertips.

I nod and a first tear runs down my cheek.

Everything I fear dies when he gently pulls me into his arms. The claws of the nightmare vanish completely, in less cruel darkness.

He will be here. Always.

His smile, his vibrant eyes, his heartbeat and his warmth.

Till.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr: haifisch-ohne-traenen.tumblr.com


End file.
